Wednesday, May 9, 2007

The journey begins with a suitcase that refuses to be packed. THIS is the liability of perhaps too many clothes and the habit of taking about 30% more stuff on the road than will ever be used. I know I’m going to overpack; I know it’s insane; to stop the insanity I procrastinate packing. Neurotic OR brilliant?

But what is way more FUN (and another tragic avoidance technique)? Playing with my clothes!

I am heading up country tomorrow for my annual Pilgrimage to the Woods. It’s Mother’s Day this Sunday and I always travel to my Mother’s home in Michigan to bask in the love. Yes, Mother’s Day is a two-way street – lots of swell emotion zinging back-and-forth in both directions.

You can see part of my Gift to Mom above. Now why could an outfit of mine possibly be construed as present to anyone if I am wearing it?

Think of it.

If you are like many teen girls growing up in America (and probably globally) you’ve had more conversations with She Who Must be Obeyed than you can count about What They are Wearing — they being young women, usually with something showing that someone thinks should be under cover.

In My Family, that would be Legs/Kneecaps. Now I’ll admit, kneecaps, like most feet, are not the first answer to pass the lips when questioned on one’s favorite body part. Mine are doughy and chubbed to be sure (and that’s both aforementioned parts – we fondly refer to my feet as *pierogi*).

So the lovely lace skirt above will delight Mom – not only am I NOT wearing trousers (JEANS OMG!), but I am fabulously wrapped to below-knee in lots of fabric — two layers worth to be exact — and surprisingly, it looks quite smash with the navy waistcoat. (For some reason, naked arms in our house are quite OK, but I still might throw a little sheer black Tee under that top.)

Now what’s really important is Where this outfit is to be worn. At 11:30 am this Saturday, I will be in a rural church basement in the middle-of-nowhere. Well, Upper Lower Michigan to be exact but for you Urban Folk: Nowhere.

This is the site of an annual Mother’s Day Lunch – where the Men of the Church *cook* (serve food cooked by their wives) once a year to show their respect to all womankind. And hence, Part II of my Mother’s Day gift is given – my tongue normally arrives home later clove in two pieces from the frightful clamp that’s been on it for several hours.

Ahem. However, the actual location of this place gives me ample opportunity to fufill my Biological Destiny.

I am half-Polish.

And in our version of femininity, one must always be 10% over-dressed.

My Mommie felt much the same way and she was Scot-Irish. And, yes, we spelled it ‘Mommie’. Love her while you can despite being her mother’s daughter with all the baggage. Mine died three years ago and I miss the love that was there, even if it was hidden much of the time.

Bonne Marie – what an outfit. Fab-uuuu. Love the sweater, love the skirt (I can see a lace skirt in my future, big time), and THE SHOES !!! Dazzle the mommies and daddies at the luncheon B. Marie!! My mommy, who is no longer with us, but who was a fashionista with her own shoe “thing” would smile down on this outfit for sure!!

I love the color of your Nicole! The shininess (shinyness?) of the yarn made me think of the small stash of orange DB Pure Silk I have, which made me realize (with delight!) that I have enough to make Nicole! You just made my day!

That’s definitely a gift that Mom will be happy to receive. How sweet of you! And I know exactly what you mean about in your culture, you are always overdressed for an event. It’s funny to live here in Denver where people are much more relaxed about clothing style. I typically am a bit overdressed, but I’m used to doing it, so my relaxed or casual dress, is still a step above everyone else. But I can’t help it, I come by it honestly. Enjoy your time with Mom!

Pierogi! I love pierogi (the food)! Unfortunately, we haven’t had any since my grandmother died five years ago:( You wouldn’t happen to know of ka-loush-keys (I have no idea how to spell it)? You wouldn’t happen to have any great Polish recipies for things of that sort?